Purple Eyed Love: Finding Your Way
by Kampasi
Summary: SEQUEL: Told through the eyes of Kanzen, the 16 year old daughter of Inuyasha and Kiki. Join her as she quests to conquer her living nightmares in an attempt to save her friends and family from an evil they just can't seem to escape.
1. Introduction

**Have you ever wondered what happened to the Shikon no Tama?**

The mysterious gem was absorbed into Kiki's body during her reincarnation process. This fact was realized only moments after she and Inuyasha had agree to spend the rest of their lives together. They prepared for demons to come after her, seeking the jewel, but only once in a while would a demon appear on their doorstep, seeking to see if the rumors were true. They always met a dead end. Oddly enough, Kiki didn't age like a normal human. 20 years later she had the appearance of an 18-year-old, and Inuyasha looked as young as ever. Their friends Sango and Miroku, now 27 and 28, were happily married and trying for a child. Kiki and Inuyasha decided to continue their legacy as well.

The children were born 3 days apart in the cold month of December. First was Takoyu on the 6th, a healthy, screaming baby boy who belonged to Miroku and Sango. Then there was me, a quiet, gentle baby girl, who belong to Inuyasha and Kiki. They decided to name me Kanzen, seeing as I was a bundle of perfection in their eyes. My balanced, collected nature earned me the nickname Zen.

I aged in the way of a human, which worried, surprised, and pleased my parents. I could enjoy a normal childhood and be excepted by surrounding humans. But if I continued to age as I did I would die well before them, which had then constantly worried. What made me different from humans was my abundant spiritual power and my frightening physical abilities. Untrained, I could be destructive, which was probably how my cautious nature came to be. I would never play games in which my unfair advantages could come into play. I was a child who worked her mind, not her body. Odd things would happen to me now and then; one time I was playing hide and seek with the other children, and I could hear every single one of them with such an intensity it was like I was the wind that blew past them. My powers, until I turned the age of six, were like a curse.

And then, of course, there were the nightmares.

Ever since I could put together an illegible thought I have been plagued by the same nightmare every night I sleep. I can only escape these dreams when I am completely exhausted, which sends my sleeping schedule into a three-day routine. Usually I will bitterly wish my parents sweet dreams as I prepare myself for a lonely night full of puzzles and stretching, to keep myself awake. But when I sleep without exhaustion as my bedmate, these dreams keep me twisting, turning, and screaming for help.

As the darkness of sleep consumes me I can feel my body being absorbed in a cold, viscous gel that just sucks me right in. I open my mouth to scream and it floods my lungs, burning me from the inside out. I cry and struggle as it seeps into my stomach, my eyes, and my nose. Every inch of me burns, and I slowly begin to lose my will to fight. My eyes adjust to the pain, and I open them to see a dark figure some mere distance away from me, suffering the same fate. I get a sinking, regretful feeling in my stomach and I am choked by sorrow. As I reach for the figure, struggling to see their face, I wake up.

When I was young I would awaken to the comforting coo of one of my parents, their face distressed and sorrowing. I would smile bravely and then cling to their warmth, cursing my mind for playing such fouls tricks on me. My mother would ask me if I had suffered from a bad dream again, and I would always begin to sob hysterically at the question. All she knew and still knows about my nightmares is that they are always the same and they come for me every night I am not fatigued beyond consciousness. When my father was the one to comfort me he would hold me in his strong arms and promise that someday I'd be strong enough to fight any demon, and I wouldn't have to worry about my nightmares. Some nights he would cry for me, and those were the nights that I felt like the most worthless and burdening being my parents could have ever brought into this world. My father was not a sensitive man, but he loved his family. That much I knew.

Takoyu and I grew up together, two peas in a pod as one might say. He had been passed on a great spiritual power from his father, and from the time he was able to walk they trained him in the art of demon slaying. I grew accustomed to his having to be trained for power, a power which had so easily been granted me. I grew up with the physical strength he longed for, with a control over my powers he could only dream to achieve. By the time we both turned six, most of our training was passed into the responsibilities of my parents. My father would hone my physical abilities and make Takoyu stronger. My mother would teach us how to create barriers, which herbs helped with certain wounds and sicknesses, and how to prepare complex potions and remedies.

There was a man in the village who taught children to write for a small price, and in the morning Takoyu and I would join other children in this quest to understand literature. An hour or two was dedicated to play, and then we went home around 10 to begin our daily training. We would lunch with my parents around one and dinner with them around 6. Training ended at 7, and then we had until 9 or 10 to go off and do as we pleased. Then, Takoyu, not plagued by nightmares as I was, would head home to sleep. Every weekend and Fridays I would go through this routine alone as Takoyu stayed home to learn the art of demon slaying from his mother, and to learn such things about his powers that my mother could not teach him.

When I turned ten I got the biggest surprise of my young life; a new child would be joining our routine, and he would be missing on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. Therefore, I would always have someone to be with, and I wouldn't mope around for Takoyu when he wasn't around. His name was Shippo, the son of some of my mother's good friends. He was a full fledged demon and much stronger than I, with the annoying perk of fox magic that he used to play tricks on all of us. I was immediately entranced by his perky tail, and amused by his appearance of a boy of sixteen. My mother told me that he had aged much faster than he should have, and his parents were stumped by his growth spurt. They decided to broaden his horizons and have him train with us, to make new friends.

Although I was but a mere child I was smitten by him in a matter of weeks. He found me quiet entertaining and fascinating for a girl child of my age, and seemed to find some sort of camaraderie in our shared aging problem. As he grew to recognize certain perks about me that nobody else had ever realized, our friendship became less and less based on that shared trait. He hadn't age much past 16 by the time I turned 16.

My favorite days were Thursdays, for obvious reasons. Thursday was the day I spent time with both of my best friends. Because they only had one day of the week together, their friendship never seemed to blossom as much as it could have. There was also the fact that by 15, Takoyu knew of my hidden love for Shippo and felt a sort of rivalry between them for my affection. Shippo never let on to his true emotions during our childhood.

And so, my life fell into a pattern I grew to both love and despise. The only differences in my schedule came because of holidays and birthdays. The other children in the village slowly began to realize how strange Takoyu and I were, and eventually they didn't speak to us any more. The man who taught us to read and write died when I was 13, and left some of his supplies to my family. So, in the mornings I would continue to read and write using these supplies, slowly teaching myself more and more every day. Takoyu dropped the class all together, wanting to spend more time with his family. Shippo never – not even once – showed up before 10.

Allow me to tell you how I got to this place where I'm telling you, a stranger, about the jewel, about my nightmares, and my childhood. Let's start from the beginning… let's start on the day my nightmares began coming for me…


	2. Then They Came

I could feel the drops of perspiration roll down my forehead as I bolted upright in bed. My pupils were dilated and my tousled silver hair stuck out at odd angles. My hands were clenched so hard my nails had been forced into my skin, and blood dripped readily from the gaping holes left behind. My bed was drenched in sweat and blood and I scrounged for a clean bit of cloth I could rip off for a bandage.

As I attempted to stop the bleeding I glanced around my room in a somewhat paranoid manner. A simple wooden desk and a large full length mirror were shoved into the corner and a good size of open space on the floor welcomed sunlight from a nearby window. I slid out of bed and went to my mirror, staring down the distressed looking girl that was my reflection.

The nightmares.

The fading burning sensation in my throat and lungs made me question my sanity as I reached for a comb. My eyes were lined in red, irritated skin, and my muscles were sore from struggling. My body felt as if my dreams had been real, as if I had really been sucked into a gel-like darkness that pulled me far from the surface as I slowly drowned. My purple eyes, the shade of amethyst, glittered miserably back at me as I began to attack the knots that tormented my head. My hair cooperated easily with the bristles of my brush, and was soon looking presentable. I scrounged up pants and a shirt and slipped them over my tough leather undergarments. Then I jumped the 10 foot drop to the kitchen, landing gently and quietly.

My mother barely stirred from her position at the counter, staring intently into a glass orb. Some passing salesman had convinced her that it would allow her to tap into future-seeing powers and she had readily bought into the insane story. I uneasily glanced around me and tried to calm down. They were just nightmares. Nothing to be so petrified of.

"Where's Father?" I demanded from the unresponsive corpse that was my mother. Her eyes flickered to me and then back to her orb. After a minute or so of silence she sighed in frustration and then turned her bemused purple eyes to me.

"Oh, somewhere with Shippo. He told me to tell you that you have the day off… but that you should practice something about trees." She replied casually. Her voice was soft and silky, a soothing sound to my pulsing ears.

It was a Friday. Usually we worked on agility and the ability to dodge and escape on Fridays.

"Use them to propel myself around wooded areas? Something like that?" I offered, trying urge the true meaning of the message out of her. Mother could be a complete airhead at times, but I knew from experience that she could think well enough when she needed to. I remember thinking how odd it was that Shippo would be around so early, but it was just a passing thought.

She waved me towards the kitchen table and a breakfast of fish and rice. "Yes, yes. You know what he's talking about, don't you? I don't see why he thought I would." As I sat down she looked me over intently, noticing my irritated skin and weak appearance. "Nightmares again?"

I grabbed my chopsticks and started shoving food into my mouth. It had been 5 days since I'd slept, and I was still plagued by my horrible dreams. Being exhausted didn't seem to help as of late. For the last month I had drifted into my nightmares every time I shut my weary eyes. My body craved a good night's sleep and I cursed silently to myself about how tired I was. Why was I expected to continue training in such a miserable condition?

Mother sat down and stared at me as I ate. "Zen, these aren't things you can ignore. There's a reason for these nightmares, there has to be. Maybe your body is trying to tell you something."

I examined my mother intently for a moment. The sixteen years I had been alive had done nothing to her appearance; she looked well enough to be my elder sister, and only by about 4 years. My father looked to be my older brother, but only by around 2 or 3 years. It sometimes scared me that my parents could pass as my siblings. I finished my breakfast quickly and slammed down my chopsticks and bowl.

"I'll head out… to the woods. To practice jumping around." I informed her hastily, slipping nimbly through the front door and escaping into a nearby forest. I could imagine my mother sighing deeply and then walking intently back to her glass orb.

I immediately slowed down as soon as I was out of sight. My muscles screeched in complaint from such quick actions, and my eyelids drooped. The forest could be dangerous so I kept my ears perked intently. After a few minutes walking, I stopped for a break.

"This is pathetic. I can't do anything." I growled, running my hands through my hair. I closed my eyes and listened, absorbing the sounds around me. I could feel myself sinking into unconsciousness, and before I knew it I was being sucked into my nightmares again.

I didn't struggle, and held my breath. I was conscious enough to know that it was useless, and I might as well try to learn something from past mistakes. I didn't understand why my eyes were burning so much worse than they usually did. I finally ran out of air and gasped for breath, sucking the thick liquid into my lungs. With the pain came the ability to breathe and I began fighting against the downward pull.

I made minimal progress and then took a break, trying to force myself to wake up. As I slipped back into complete consciousness I realized that my eyes were already open and I was already awake. This time, it wasn't a dream. My entire body went into panicked survival mode. A huge burst of adrenaline surged through my muscles and I began fighting against the gel once more. I focused on the dim light above me that was the outside world. The light flickered slightly and suddenly a dark figure was sinking towards me.

Can you blame me for the flame of fear that engulfed all of my senses? My dreams had never shown such a figure, and it was coming right towards me. I expended a good deal of energy turning and trying to escape from it and closed my eyes against burning pain. Strong hands slipped around my waist and I fiercely fought for freedom.

I could feel myself being pulled up, somewhat against my will. The adrenaline slowly began to lose its affect and my limbs became useless to me. In my mind I struggled, but in reality I had become virtually limp.

A huge cold shock woke me from my numb state. The figure and I had broken the surface, and I could feel myself being shifted onto their broad shoulders. Air whizzed past us, chilling me to the bone. And then I was suddenly being laid on solid ground, the light burning my eyes through my eyelids.

Noises came slowly to me, but my sense of touch was completely alert. Two sets of hands ran up and down my overworked muscles, fighting the chill and ache that completely consumed me. I could hear two low voices mumbling incoherently above me and felt drenched clothes being stripped away and replaced by dry ones. Something in my mind told me to fight the unknown helping hands but my body failed to listen. I gradually worked up the ability to open my eyes.

"Zen? Zen, are you alright?" The sun blinded me and made the person looking over me into a shadow. My ears picked up his voice – I was quite certain it was a man – just barely, and I felt a twinge of familiarity in it. Obviously the person knew me and had the strength to pull me out of whatever I had been in.

"We should bring her home. Kiki will know what to do with her." A deeper voice urged, soaked in worry.

"But Inuyasha, I'm not sure we should move her. She's not breathing steadily, and even though her eyes are open they're fogged over. She's in no condition to be carried anywhere." The shadow above me argued. My mind completely settled at the mentioning of my father and I could feel all of my limbs release the tautness of struggle. I felt a rough hand stroke my cheek.

"Zen? Zen, can you hear me? Can you speak?" my father inquired gently. I pried my lips open and took a large gasp of air, filling my lungs with a stinging sensation. My eyes began to distinguish features in the shadows loaming over me and I recognized my father instantly.

The other shadow leaned closer to me, allowing me to focus on his features. To my surprise I found Shippo's deep brown eyes gazing into mine. A smile tugged at his lips as relief flooded over him. He leaned back and mumbled something to my father who nodded and then went left my vision completely. Shippo cupped my right cheek in his hand and stared at me again, speaking slowly.

"Your father has gone to tell your mother what happened. Zen, your father and I have been running around the forest for hours looking for you. This morning he came to me talking about a rumor, a strange rumor about pools of thick liquid appearing beneath unsuspecting demons and devouring them. We decided to scout and look around. When we went to go tell you and Kiki about what we'd found out… well, she told us you'd been gone all day. That you'd rushed off into the forest. We got scared.

"I don't know how long you were in that pool, but… it was so odd. We were passing by, looking around, and we see this bright pool of purple light. Your father was completely shocked, he said it looked just like something Kiki had done a few years ago… So I jumped in. I don't know why, I just thought you might be there."

Shippo rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. A realization dawned on me about how risky it had been to jump into such a dangerous situation with a mere inkling that I may be in trouble. Tears pooled in my eyes and streamed down my face, washing away some of the pain. His expression of complete, serene relief was unfamiliar to me. Usually when I got into trouble he would laugh at my misfortune or be angry at my stupidity. Relief was an emotion he kept tucked away from me.

"The odd thing is, Zen." He began slowly, "Is that while you looked like the picture of pain and agony, the gel didn't do anything to me." He opened his eyes to assess my reaction – my eyes flickered with surprise but I was too weak to do much else - and then pulled back to run his right hand through his hair.

My nightmare had come to life. I had believe originally that I had fallen asleep and woken up in the gel, but what if the pool had appeared as soon as I had let my guard down? What if when I was slowly sinking in the beginning of my dream, I was actually just starting to get sucked in? If that was the case, I should have fought. I should have fought like every time I had ever experienced my nightmare, fought with that overwhelming sense of need to struggle that always overcame me when I had slipped into the gel before.

I should have listened to what my nightmares were telling me, and I should have been ready.

**16 years of hell had prepared me for nothing.**


End file.
